“I believe in Déesse. She will take care of my crew,” I say. “I will do what she asks me to do.”
Santo nods with an air of indifference. As much as he wants to pretend he’s one of us, down with the cause, he’s living a privileged life. He’s royalty, whereas I’m just one notch above a toiler. Las Mal Criadas will toe the line. We have to. Déesse holds the key to our fate.
“I’ll see you on Saturday, then,” Santo says. “Suerte.”
“I don’t need any luck.”
He heads toward the door and turns with a serious expression. “Always with the last word. Sorry, not tonight.” With that, Santo leaves.
I thought Déesse wanted a crew that stood for righteousness. So be it. Las Mal Criadas will go down this weekend whether we want to or not. I’ll fake the fight and let the Deadly Venoms win. I’ll lie because lying will save us.
CHAPTER 5
CHANCE WITH DESTINY
The three tall buildings that make up Mega City Towers have the shape of a giant letter U. It’s the only complex to survive the Big Shake with minimal damage. Those who live in the Towers get a gorgeous view of the courtyard that lies below at the center of the U shape. Only Tower residents have access to the blooming flowers and shady trees inside the courtyard. There’s even a playground for kids. On most days, the rest of Mega City can peep enviously through the gates and admire the luxury of having such a green space. Not today. Today is the last Saturday of the month. The gates are wide open for the throwdown. The courtyard is overrun by Mega City people.
As we enter, red paper flowers rain down from above, covering the floor in scarlet, the color of my crew. I look toward the hundreds of windows that make up the Towers and to those tossing the flowers. The chosen ones. They smile and laugh, secure in being far away from the toilers down below. Can’t say I blame them. No one wants to be near regular ol’ toilers, sweaty and reeking from hard labor. The sun will soon set and a cool breeze will serenade us. If only the breeze could gather me and place me next to the luminous people above. I hope the potent drinks flow tonight. How closely will they look when I give up the fight? I hope not too closely.
Across from us, the Deadly Venoms present their game face. They’re dressed in black, with mugs painted in their trademark skulls. When they snarl, they flash their neon pink mouth guards. I take a hard look. Which one of them did Manos in? Who threw the last punch? It’s going to take everything to throw this fight now that they stand before me.
“Hey, Deadly Dumb Dumbs!” I yell to them. “You goofs need to sit down. Take all the seats. You’re looking janky.”
Around me, several toilers laugh and jeer at the Deadly Venoms without fear of repercussion. This is the only time when throwing shade is not only encouraged, but it adds to the whole spectacle.
“We’re going to shred you to pieces,” counters one of the Deadly Venom soldiers. How original. These idiots deserve to be crushed. The worst fate for any crew is to be dull, and the Deadly Venoms are the dullest.
“You cows are played out, you and your skull faces,” yells Truck.
“Suck my tip!” they scream back.
As we trade insults, the toilers behind us yell out who they will bet against. A girl sells wooden dolls made to our likenesses. Other vendors trade drinks and delicacies normally found only in the Towers in exchange for sueño tabs. Seats are free, but toilers will gladly give up their spot if a good trade presents itself. Everyone is in on the action.
Two crews battle it out fist to fist. Five girls against five girls. Technically it should be a pretty clean fight but crews are known to bring extra help with them. Sticks. Bats. Rocks. Fight whoever you want to fight except for the leaders. The leaders of each gang must end the throwdown by battling each other. It is a show, and that is what the masses expect. Schedules are determined in advance. There are lightweight throwdowns for baby crews starting out and main events like ours.
Ask any old-timer. They will reminisce back to when large sporting events were held as a way to bring people together and to invigorate the cash flow. They forget how most of those events were catered to men. Déesse brought back these competitions with a twist—women only take center stage. The throwdowns are reminders that we have strength equal to or more so than men. For crews, these battles are a way to position themselves and gain favor with those above. A battle won can mean a better line to patrol or entrance to the best papi chulo clubs. Losing can mean being stripped of your status and delivered to a weak toiler job.
“This is going to be the end of Las Muchas Muchas,” says Destiny. “Yeah, I’m looking right at you. Santo’s squealing sucka.”
Destiny is the leader of the Deadly Venoms. Funny how her name sounds so queenly. Doesn’t go with the person who beats her crew with a large gold cane while gorging off their findings. Destiny surrounds herself with a young, shredded group. She makes sure they’re desperate, a real hungry bunch, willing to accept her beatdowns in exchange for whatever measly piece she tosses their way. I can’t believe I have to lose out to her. Faking this fight when Destiny is literally the worst piece of trash in Mega City.
“I’m going to take that gold cane and shove it up your ass,” I say. “You’re going to be my very own piñata.”
More and more people stream in. Children climb poles to get a better view. There’s a real surge of energy emanating. A sense that a harsh and bloody show is about to go down. My girls stretch their bodies. Get limber. It’s on us to teach Destiny and her crew a lesson in the name of Manos Dura. They have their rage faces on.
Last night, I couldn’t find a way to tell my girls about Santo’s proposition, not even Truck. Instead, I gave them a pep talk to end all pep talks. I used words like “sisterhood” and “the Towers” and “making our dreams come true.” I spoke the truth, for the most part. Because I end the fight with Destiny, I will lose to her. Individually, they can save face. As for me, I will go down. When I do, the LMCs will lose.
Nena gently tugs at my jacket and whispers, “She’s here.” A hush spreads across the courtyard. Eyes are glued to the balcony. School is in session. I hope once I see Déesse I will understand the task before me. I tried to figure a way out of this. The roads lead right back to me playing the sucker tonight. I have to trust Déesse.
Déesse steps onto the balcony on the first floor of the Towers. She wears a flowing dress in neon colors so bright that those with the bad luck of being far away can see her. Her braids reach the floor and her arms are encased in large gold cuffs. Even the freckles that cover her face and neck add to her breathtaking beauty. I’m not the only one who carved freckles on their skin to imitate her. Every girl wants to be her.
Standing next to Déesse with a sour expression is her daughter, Sule. She has no freckles.
“My beautiful children! If you hear me, let me know. If you feel me, scream it to the sky,” Déesse says. Everyone, including myself, yells so loudly our throats most certainly burn.
“All who hear me, far and wide, know that we are in this world for one thing, to make this life right. When everything around us was being destroyed by those lost in their blind ambition, we didn’t cry. We didn’t ask, ‘why?’ No, children, we got up and got to work.”